Still Alive
by Sassy Satsuma
Summary: With the Collectors defeated and the Normandy's team unscathed, the Commander should be elated. But Shepard still has her own daemons to deal with. With everyone thinking that she is ok, it takes a true friend to give her the understanding she needs...


_**Warning!**__ I should probably warn that there will be a fair bit of swearing. When I say fair, I mean a lot. I'm quite fond of it. _

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing to do with Shepard, Garrus, or any other part of the Mass Effect Universe as they all belong to Bioware. I'm just amateur writer who likes to borrow them a little. _

**Note from Sassy: **So I'll admit it, I've been lurking in the fandom for a little while, but to be brutally honest I was a little spooked by the quality of the fiction here that it's taken me until now to post. This idea hit me unexpectedly on a random, insomnia fuelled night and it's been bugging me ever since. There's room for me to expand it into several chapters, but I don't want to continue you it if you guys think that I'm doing it wrong! It's predominantly friendship orientated, but since I am a complete Garrus fangirl there is underlying romance there if you squint. If I continued it then I'm pretty sure my poor, downtrodden Shepard would end up developing true feelings for her favourite turian. :D

I've tried to be in character as much as possible, but I should probably warn that as a PS3 owner I'm pretty new to ME and haven't had the opportunity to play the original. *sigh* I just hope you enjoy it!

-x-Sass-x-

* * *

_Wonders never ceased. _

Shepard sloshed the blue alcohol in her glass around idly, watching as the liquid glinted in the low level light. It was a potent, sweet mix that by now she was sick of tasting, and yet she still brought the glass up to her lips, tipping the alcohol into her mouth, its cool, almost bubbly texture scraping down her throat. With a sigh, Shepard tilted back her head, fixing her eyes on the port observation deck window, the eerie expanse of space suddenly feeling oddly comforting.

She'd been told, _repeatedly_, that it was time to celebrate. They'd defeated the Collectors, broken away from the Illusive Man and somehow her crew had managed to do the impossible, to survive a mission that everyone, including herself, had branded as pure _suicide_. She should have been elated, overjoyed and ecstatic, on Omega with her crew, downing drinks in Afterlife whilst Zaaed made eyes at the asari dancers.

But it wasn't that simple. Nothing was anymore.

She laughed darkly. That was what the old Shepard would have done. The _real_ Shepard. She'd be celebrating with her crew, not sitting alone in an abandoned, darkened ship like some kind of fucking outcast.

It was months since her resurrection and somewhere amongst all that passed time her crew had decided that she was _ok_, that she was by no means scarred from the ordeal, that she had merely taken it all in her stride. Shepard wondered how she had managed to make them all think she was so strong. The truth was that she was far from recovered from the experience. Sure, the scars on her face were beginning to heal, but that meant nothing for those that ran deeper, the thick, penetrating gashes that lay deep within her psyche. The human _mind _wasn't prepared to be brought back from the dead, to be hauled back into life almost violently. How could _anyone _be expected to be able to wake up in a new world and pick up from where they had left off? Death was supposed to be final, and yet Shepard still remembered hers as if it was yesterday, the tight, aching pressure of her suffocating lungs returning to her every time she dared to close her eyes. She knew what it was to pay the ultimate sacrifice, and far from it being a liberating experience, it was simply harrowing, a constant dark presence at the back of her thoughts, ready to manifest itself as soon as she was alone.

Shepard sighed, reaching for the cylindrical bottle of alcohol and pouring herself a fresh glass. She adjusted her positioning on the cold floor, uncrossing her now numb legs, before swallowing the measure of liquid in one go, the once sweet drink beginning to leave a bitter after taste at the back of her throat. Her eyes met with the endless space in front of her and she blinked back dry tears. Somewhere, the Reapers were still out there. Waiting. _Preparing_. Her crew might think that it was all over for now, but Shepard herself knew better. She'd survived two suicide missions, several close shaves and died once. She didn't doubt for a second that the next mission might very well be her last.

"Shepard?" The unexpected voice shook her completely, the commander jumping out of her skin as she spun around, her legs splayed on the floor, ready to stand at a moments notice. The figure behind her was half cast in shadow in the dim light of the ship, but once she had calmed herself, Shepard recognised the voice instantly. "… Now I can either come in… or we can pretend I never saw you and I'll head back to the main battery…" Garrus let out a soft, rasping laugh. "It's your call."

"No need." Settling back down again, Shepard turned her back on him, nodding to the empty space in front of her. "I just wasn't expecting company."

"_Really?_" The turian laughed again, slowly stepping into the room. "To me it looks as you're planning one hell of a party."

"Very funny."

"I try." He moved beside her, nodding to the half full bottle that sat on the floor in front of her. "Got anything vaguely dextro in here?"

"Over by the bar… red I think…" She waved her hand idly in his direction, her eyes still fixed dead ahead. There was a brief pause and clinking of bottles as he searched for his drink, before he appeared at her side again, this time sat on the floor, his legs outstretched yet bent at the knee. He cracked open the bottle, drinking a hefty slug from it straight away and grimacing.

"_Hideous_…" He let out another soft noise of displeasure. "Next time we dock to buy supplies…I'm finding something decent to drink."

"I wouldn't know." Shepard shrugged. "I don't tend to drink substances that can send me into shock."

"Unless it's Ryncol…"

"That was once…"

"Yeah, yeah and we _all_ paid for it." Garrus let out a rough laugh. "But admit it… it's funny looking back on it, right?" He gave her a gentle jab in the ribs.

"Laugh it up, Garrus." Shepard rolled her eyes, although a soft smile passed across her lips. "We've seen some shit together, haven't we?"

"You mean _I've _seen some shit." The turian's mandibles flared in an expression that Shepard associated as a smile. "Usually it's at your expense."

"I'm so glad that I amuse you."

"So am I." Taking another reluctant drink from the bottle, Garrus let out a sharp hiss, leaning backwards so that he was resting on his elbows, his eyes locked onto the back of Shepard's head, her brown hair black in the dim light. "_So_… do I need to ask why you're sitting alone on a powered down ship?"

"Everyone else is supposed to be on shore leave. I figured that it was best to leave only the main systems running."

"We both know that wasn't the main point of that question, Shepard."

"Touché." Shepard rolled her eyes. "But I could easily ask you the same thing."

"I don't care for Omega." Garrus shrugged bluntly, flexing the muscles surrounding his neck. "Sure, I'd follow you anywhere on a mission but…" He hesitated. "I have no desire to spend my down time on that rock."

"You left with the others…"

"I was _dragged._" The turian chuckled to himself. "I've learnt from experience that Grunt can be pretty persuasive. But I didn't stay."

"Afterlife didn't tempt you?"

"You must be kidding." He shook his head. "I stayed just long enough to see Zaaed buy Mordin a lap dance then I figured it was my time to go." He laughed softly. "No one was in any rush to stop me."

"Hell knows why." Shepherd smirked. "Everyone knows you're the life and soul of any party, Garrus."

"You're telling me. Without me the whole thing just lacks a certain… finesse." He paused, taking the time to take another heavy slug from his drink. "But hey…give me a club full of asari, or sitting up here on an observation deck with you and I know what I'd choose any day."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Garrus. Even if it is that stylish."

"Not even the right to ask you what's wrong?" Garrus sat up straight, craning his neck to look at her. "You managed to turn that question around on me."

"You're like a dog with a bone on this aren't you?"

"Sorry?"

"Human saying… never mind." Shepard sighed, taking another drink, her throat struggling momentarily with the sickly liquid. "I meant that you're being very persistent."

"Where I come from, persistence generally suggests care." The turian shrugged. "So yeah, I guess I_ am_ being persistent." He tilted his head, watching her intently. "But credit me with knowing you Shepard, even if it is just this once."

"You deserve to be celebrating."

"Too bad, I'm busy talking to you." Garrus said softly, edging slightly closer sub consciously. "Celebrating can wait."

"I'm fine…_ really._"

"And I'm in the running to be C-Sec's new poster child." He let out a sarcastic laugh. "C'mon, Shepard. For one night, let's try something new. You and me…_ honesty_." He took another quick drink. "Call it bonding."

"This a strategy you picked up from C-Sec?"

"I never had the pleasure of interrogating someone as stubborn as you." The turian chuckled. "_Unfortunately._"

"It's probably for the best." Shepard shrugged, busying herself with pouring another measure of alcohol so that she didn't have to meet his gaze. "I don't know where to start."

"The beginning generally helps."

"Smart ass…" Shepard grunted. "It's not that simple."

"Sure it is… if you want it to be." The turian nodded slowly, pivoting around on the floor so that he was in between her and the observation window, preventing her from looking away. "C'mon…if you can trust anyone, it's me, right?"

"Same old, Garrus." Shepard smiled weakly. "You haven't changed."

"I think we both know I have." He shrugged gently. "But we're not talking about me right now."

"…Have I?" The question escaped Shepard's lips without any real thought, the commander left wondering if she had really said it at all. She watched Garrus' expression carefully, his eyes light and pensive in the gloom.

"Shepard…"

"Answer me." She swallowed hard, her face determined. "I need to know. Because I swear sometimes I look in the mirror and I barely recognise myself."

"It's the Cerberus uniform… never been the most flattering look in the galaxy." Garrus said lightly, but the joke fell heavy on them both, the air remaining tense around them. He paused, clearly contemplating his answer. "Can I tell you something?"

"_Garrus…_"

"It'll answer your question, I promise." The turian interrupted, holding a hand up to gently silence her. He waited for her response, watching her nod weakly, a sure sign for him to continue. "You remember back on Omega? In the quarantine zone?"

"Sure…"

"I'd been back with you, what? Two days maybe?" He shrugged thoughtfully. "It doesn't matter. We came across that sick batarian…Ranting and raving about how the plague was your fault. You gave him medigel. Any doubts that Cerberus had tampered with you left me right then."

"How?"

"Last time I checked, Cerberus only tolerated me and the other alien crew members because we were necessary to their mission." He cocked his head to one side. "I was worried they'd have made you think the same. But there you were…giving an alien, batarian no less, your last lot of medigel that you'd probably end up needing against the vorcha." He laughed to himself. "That's the Shepard I knew. The one I still _know_."

"So I spare one batarian and I'm still me, that's it?" Shepard rolled her eyes. "Don't be so naïve."

"_Hey_…I wasn't finished." The turian shot her an almost angry look. "Just look at what you've achieved…the squad you recruited."

"All Cerberus…"

"The dossiers maybe." Garrus shook his head. "But you were the one who had to convince every one of us, to talk us into doing the impossible. Few people could do that, human or otherwise." His mandibles flared into a 'smile'. "You lead us into hell and then walked us straight back out again. Besides, you had the quads to turn your back on the man who brought you back." He laughed softly. "Not exactly behaviour typical of a Cerberus puppet, is it?"

"Then why don't I feel like myself, Garrus?" Shepard sighed, downing what remained of her neglected drink, her eyes flitting between him and the floor. "… I've _changed_."

"And I haven't? Garrus shook his head. "I don't know of a single person from your old squad who hasn't _changed_, Shepard. Ok, your circumstances are a little different… but c'mon, we all see things differently now. It's our motivation that's stayed static."

"Motivation?" Shepard rolled her eyes. "You mean to stop the Reapers?"

"That's the one." He nodded back to her, his eyes warm. "It's got us this far, right?"

"But that's just it…" Any other time, and the words wouldn't pass from her lips like this, unchecked and without care, but the heady combination of alcohol and Garrus' persistence stirred something in Shepherd, her mind suddenly feeling able to speak freely. "I don't know if I can do this again, Garrus."

"Sure you can."

"You don't know what it's like." She shook her head. "To have everyone telling you that they depend on you, to constantly have the low odds of success thrown in your face. I feel as if it all stops here, with me. The Alliance will want no hand in this until its too late and now we've lost Cerberus…" She let out a dark laugh, her tone bitter, yet weary. "I've already died once, Garrus. And I won't lie to you… The experience alone has left me fucking terrified." She shuddered, her voice wavering. "I feel as if the entire galaxy is building me up to be something I'm not, when in reality I've never felt so small in my entire life." Hanging her head, Shepard was unable to look at him further, her features crumpling. Opening up to him felt like an unbearable sign of weakness, even if he was her most trusted friend. "… I'm sorry. You didn't deserve to hear all that. Not tonight."

"That's really what you feel?" His voice was soft, shaken.

"Not all of the time…" She was trying to rationalise it, but her words were hollow. "Just when I'm alone mainly."

"I…I'm not sure what I can say."

"You don't have to say anything."

"But I _want_ to…" The turian paused, a tentative hand reaching out and resting on her forearm. The sudden contact caused Shepard to jump momentarily, but she made no effort to move away from him. "… I can't begin to understand how you felt."

"I'm not expecting you to."

"Let me finish." His grip tightened ever so slightly on her arm. "… Shepard. I don't want you to think you're alone in this…Sure, everyone looks to you, and yours is the name that they'll all have in lights in the end… quite rightly too." He paused, as though he was carefully choosing his words. "But I want to be there, stood right next to you, through it _all_."

"You know how this is likely to end, Garrus." She said slowly, lifting her head to finally meet his gaze. "We can only survive so many suicide missions."

"I don't care. Like I said, we're in this together now. Back on Omega, I followed you into that quarantine zone because I knew you needed me."

"You didn't know that Mordin had a cure…"

"Exactly. Fortunately it was a risk that paid off." He gave her a brief 'smile'. "My point is… I'd do it again. Viruses, Collectors, Reapers…it doesn't matter to me." He laughed softly. "If you're staring death in the face then I'm going to be right there with you." He watched her carefully before adding. "… Preferably stood in front of you."

"Garrus…"

"Don't you dare." The turian shook his head. "You don't argue, you don't cry and you certainly don't mention this conversation ever again." He laughed gently, desperate to lighten the mood. "I have a reputation to think about." Garrus let go of her arm suddenly, as though he'd only just realised that they were still in contact. "Just… remember it if you feel like this again. Ok?"

"… Thank you."

"Don't mention it." He nodded to her courteously. "And I mean it…_don't_." He shifted slightly, a hand running across his fringe almost nervously. "You know I'm no good at this kind of stuff. Especially when I'm sober." As if to prove a point he took another long drink of alcohol, nudging Shepherd's bottle towards her expectantly.

"Wouldn't dream of it." She cracked a soft smile in return, taking the bottle and drinking herself, pausing to clink her bottle against Garrus'. The turian looked at her, clearly bemused.

"What was that?"

"Another human gesture." She shrugged. "Think of it as me sealing the deal."

"Your species has odd customs."

"So does yours." She smirked quickly. "And I'm guessing that drinking with your commanding officer generally isn't one of them."

"Oh I don't know… maybe for very privileged turians..." He tilted his drink towards her graciously. "Which I believe myself to be."

"Remember what I said about flattery?" Shepard raised a mocking eyebrow.

"Never hurts to try."

"You're definitely an appalling turian." Shepard sighed, although her words carried with them a deep sense of affection. "One question though… if I'm allowed?"

"Don't see why not."

"Before we forget that this conversation ever happened…" She watched him curiously. "You said that you were being persistent because you cared." Shrugging, she watched Garrus fidget in front of her. "Why?"

"You're asking me why I _care_?" He gave her an unsure look in return.

"I guess so."

"_Riiight…_" Garrus' voice rasped over the word, dragging it out in order to give himself time to think. He scratched at his fringe sub consciously; a gesture that usually suggested that he was uncomfortable or nervous. "Well… I…" He hesitated. "Look, Shepard, you're about the only friend I've got left in this screwed-up galaxy. There's nobody I respect more than you." He eyed her curiously. "That makes you…_ important_ to me."

"Really?" Shepard was unable to stop herself cocking an intrigued eyebrow.

"Yeah…" He shrugged, his hands wavering momentarily in the air. "Hell, Shepard… I'm a turian… what do you want, poetry?"

"_Please_…" She rolled her eyes. "That's the last thing I need."

"Good." He looked relieved. "I'm not in the habit of doing this, you know."

"I'd noticed."

"_Great…_" He shook his head, although his voice was lighter, his tone amused. "Last time I try and comfort you."

"I'm sorry… I'll try to be more appreciative."

"_Urgh_…" He swatted at her arm, his voice mock repulsed. "Can't imagine anything worse. How about we just drink more and talk less?"

"I'm still in no mood to celebrate."

"Who said we're celebrating?" The turian laughed quickly. "Let's just say that we're making the most of it."

"Of what?"

"_Being alive_." Garrus nodded softly, lifting his bottle out towards her. "I figure you and me have enough scars between us to rival a ship full of krogan. We've got a lot to be thankful for, right?"

"_Right._" Shepard smiled decisively, clinking her bottle against his. She grinned at him, at last feeling at least a little relaxed. "But when I wake up with the hangover from hell… I'll remember who to blame."

"I figure I can just about handle that." Garrus shrugged. "Besides… from what I saw on Omega, we certainly won't be the only ones."

From then on, the night fell into a drunken haze, suitably mindless to grant Shepard the escapism that she had needed all along. Sure, the insecurities and fears that drove her were by no means cured, but somehow what Garrus had said had helped her, if only in making her realise that she wasn't as alone as she has first thought. There was one member of her crew who now knew the truth, who didn't take her strength for granted and even if they never spoke of their past conversation again, Shepard felt better in knowing that at least one person didn't see her as invincible or infallible. In some ways Garrus was the only one she could trust with the truth, knowing full well that the turian wouldn't fuss over her like other members of the crew might, or handle her like glass just because she had displayed some form of weakness. After all, Shepard wasn't looking for sympathy. She merely wanted some form of understanding.

They'd vowed to stagger their way to their respective beds, but somewhere amongst all the drink and idle chatter that followed, neither of them bothered to move, remaining on the observation deck floor. Garrus had collapsed into a heap first, Shepard soon following beside him, the two of them laughing inexplicably at their predicament. The air had been cold, the heating on one of its lower settings, and Shepard didn't know if it was due to a faster metabolism or not, but Garrus' body beside her felt much warmer, emanating steady heat through his casual clothes. Shuddering, she'd crawled over to him, resting her head on his chest, pleasantly surprised when he didn't bother arguing, instead throwing a loose arm around her shoulders. Shepard didn't know who fell asleep first, only that it was the first night in months where she hadn't woken up screaming…

* * *

Hours later, Shepard awoke to a much warmer ship, the lighting turned back onto its normal setting around her. She blinked hard, wincing at the piercing light that streaked in past her eyelids, her disorientated hands fumbling around for Garrus. However, all that greeted her was a woollen blanket draped carefully across her shoulders, two empty alcohol cylinders clinking to the floor when she accidentally knocked them over with her feet. Garrus himself was nowhere to be found.

"Uhhhhhh…" There was a pained groan behind her, and slowly, her head still spinning, Shepard propped herself up on her elbows, glancing over her shoulder. On the black couch behind her, Kasumi was curled up into a tight ball, a similar blanket draped across her slight frame. Slowly she opened her eyes, long eyelashes blinking. "Shepard?"

"Good night, eh?" The commander nodded, instantly regretting the movement as it brought on a distinct feeling of nausea.

"I don't remember…" The thief shook her head in response. "I'm not known for my alcohol tolerance…"

"So I see."

"What happened to you?" Kasumi looked at her puzzled, drawing the blanket up so that it was tucked right under her chin. "You didn't come down with us."

"I was catching up with an old friend." Shepard shrugged. "I needed the downtime."

"You mean Garrus?"

"How did you know?"

"Aside from the fact he was absent last night _and_ the empty drinks cylinders?" Kasumi laughed. "I'm pretty sure these ugly blankets are his too."

"Don't let him hear you say that…" Shepard smirked, sitting upright slowly. "He'd be heartbroken."

"Hey… it was sweet of him to take care of us."

"Yeah… it was."

"So you and he… you're…" It seemed even when horrifically hung-over, Kasumi still lived for ship gossip. She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"…_ Old_ friends." Shepard rolled her eyes, hauling herself to her feet. "Garrus gets me… that's all. He's had enough practice."

"I'm sure he has…" Kasumi purely grinned in reply.

"Don't give me that…" Shepard rolled her eyes, although she allowed herself a soft laugh at the insinuation. "Now if you'll be excuse me… I'll be dying in my quarters…" She gave the thief a quick nod.

"Sounds good to me." Kasumi's reply was muffled as she lifted the blanket up over her head, curling up into an even tighter ball. "EDI… cut the lights on the observation deck please… you're _killing_ me here."

Showered, changed and with a glass of water firmly in hand, Shepard was at least feeling a little more human, her body tucked into the very corner of her couch, Garrus' blanket still wrapped loosely around her body. She sipped at the water, not caring that the liquid tasted almost stale, simply thankful for the soothing properties it brought to her body. She'd taken painkillers, but waiting for them to work felt like pure _agony_.

Her Omni-tool beeped and Shepard raised her arm, patching into it. A screen flicked open from the orange hologram and Shepard eyed the displayed message curiously, laughing to herself when she recognised the message's sender.

'_Shepard, _

_Figured that you'd be awake by now, or at least less likely to kill me for waking you up if you weren't. The blanket __**is**__ mine, but if you've done that very human thing of vomiting then feel free to get it laundered before you return it. I thought you might want to talk again anyway, repair talks, the usual. Maybe over lunch? Or if we're both still feeling half dead…maybe we could just sit in the canteen and __**pretend**__ to be eating. Face it; my sparkling company is going to be the highlight of your day either way… _

_Let me know, _

_Garrus.' _

Shepard rolled her eyes, closing her Omni-tool quickly and shaking her head. It was typical Garrus, something that couldn't have been more comforting that morning. There was no overbearing sympathy, no pressure to divulge anymore, only the usual banter that they'd shared since the day they'd met. Shepard smiled to herself briefly. She'd never let Garrus know it, but that was one of the few things that she never wanted to change.

After all, there were few people who truly understood her. But knowing that Garrus Vakarian did served in making the galaxy seem that little less lonely, no matter what was to come…

**Fin **


End file.
